


The Han That Rocks the Cradle

by shadowmaat



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Accidental Smuggler Acquisition, Boba is not being paid enough for this, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-12 07:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11156697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowmaat/pseuds/shadowmaat
Summary: Boba Fett is still in the process of making a name for himself and figuring out what to do with his life. He's been hired to rescue a young girl from the men who kidnapped her, but what should have been an easy job gets complicated when she refuses to leave without her fellow hostage. Things get even worse when one of the kidnappers switches sides to join them, insisting he never agreed to any of this. It'll take a week to get to Glee Anselm, but Boba may kill Han Solo long before that.





	1. Chapter 1

Boba knew better than to expect any job to be easy and with this one in particular he’d taken extra precautions to try and be prepared for any contingencies. It hadn’t helped. 

“Your father hired me to get _you_ out safely,” he repeated. “There was nothing in my contract about a baby.”

“His parents refused to pay the ransom.” The Nautolan girl cradled the sleeping kit in her arms. “I heard Filchen say he was gonna sell him to the slavers!”

Filchen was a Bothan thug with delusions of grandeur. A small-time smuggler and thief he’d recently started expanding his gang and trying to take on bigger jobs. Including kidnapping. Which was the reason he was standing in the bowels of Filchen’s latest den being glared at by a defiant twelve year old.

Boba shrugged. “He’s a Zygerrian. He’d probably grow up to be a slaver, anyway.”

The girl- Khel Seriss- narrowed her deep red eyes and jutted out her chin. “Jenner is a _baby_. And I’m not leaving without him!” 

The timer on Boba’s helmet display was counting down to the next patrol. If they didn’t leave now they might not make it out at all. He weighed his options and sighed.

“Fine. But you’re responsible for him.”

Ignoring her squeak of triumph he opened the door to check the hallways. Still empty. Keeping his blaster at the ready he motioned for her to follow him out. There was a maintenance shaft near the stairway that he’d used to get in. It had been plastered over before Filchen had taken control, but a little help from a fusioncutter had opened the way again.

They were nearing the shaft when Boba heard voices echoing down the stairs.

“...what I signed on for!”

“Then you shouldn’t have signed the contract.”

Boba didn’t recognize the first voice, but the gravelly tone of the second one was Filchen. He swore under his breath. The timer still showed they had eight minutes, but, as often happened, timetables couldn’t be trusted. He turned, grabbing Khel by the shoulder and propelling her towards the opening in the wall.

“Go!”

She stumbled forward, the kit in her arms muttering a noise of protest.

“Did you hear that?” Filchen asked.

“What? No, I didn’t hear anything!” The second voice seemed to be speaking louder. “Look, Fil, I don’t care about the kriffing contract, I want out!”

Khel was having trouble managing the handholds with the kit in her arms. Boba was just reaching in to take hold of him when Filchen and his cohort came around the corner of the stairs.

Filchen’s large nostrils flared, his ears tilting back in a rattle of beads.

“I knew it!” Roaring, he attempted to fire his blaster, but the human with him slammed into his side, knocking him against the wall and causing him to drop the weapon. 

Boba wasted no time shooting him between the eyes and then trained his blaster on the young human, who raised his arms.

“Hey! I’m on your side, here!”

Khel had screamed when shot was fired and was now trying to calm the kit, whose high-pitched wail was sure to draw even more unwelcome attention.

“The only one on my side is me.” Boba fired again, but the kid dove back around the corner. 

Boba took the kit from Khel’s arms and gestured at the ladder again. “Hurry up!”

She was trembling hard, but did as he said, scrambling her way up towards the roof. He moved to follow, keeping his weapon trained on the stairway until the last second, but there was no return fire. 

“Someone killed Filchen!” He heard over the sound of the Zygerrian’s increasing screams. “They went out the back!”

Taking a chance he holstered his blaster and started climbing. “This is why I’m never having kids,” he muttered as tiny claws attempted to scratch at his armor.

They made it to the roof without incident. Boba all but shoved the kit back in Khel’s arms, breathing a sigh of relief as it immediately quieted, grabbing for one of her headtails. He shrugged back into his jetpack as he checked for signs of pursuit. Nothing. Which was a welcome surprise.

“Wuh- what h-happens now, Mr. Fett?”

“Now we get you back to my ship and home to your-”

The door beside him burst open. Boba grabbed the figure as it tried to run past, swinging him around to slam against the wall.

“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!”

It was the same kid from the basement. Shaggy brown hair hung just over his eyes. Age was indeterminate, but probably in his late teens. He had a blaster clipped to his belt that Boba took for himself.

“What do you want?” He pressed the barrel of the modified DL-44 to the man’s head.

“You weren’t gonna leave me behind, were you?” The kid had the audacity to grin at him. “After I helped you escape?”

“Han!” Khel tugged at Boba’s leg, smiling. “It’s Han! He’s nice, Mr. Fett!”

“Nice people don’t kidnap children and hold them for ransom.”

“Hey, that wasn’t my fault! I was brought in after that and they didn’t tell me- wait, Fett?” Han’s eyes widened. “Jango?!”

Boba felt a familiar stab in his chest at the mention of his father’s name.

“His son.” He all but spat the words. With a final shove at Han’s chest he turned away, dismissing him as a threat. “Come on, Khel, we need to leave.” He knelt to pick her up, careful not to crush the kit against his chestplate.

“Hey, what about me?” Han demanded.

“Not my problem.” He toggled a switch and launched into the air, coming to land two streets over where he’d stashed his swoop.

“That was fun!” Khel giggled. Even the kit was making chirping noises that Boba interpreted as happy.

“Ever ridden on a speeder bike before?” He set her on the ground.

“Duh! Tons of times!” She stared at the swoop. 

“Good.” He snatched a faded pennant off a nearby pole and fashioned a makeshift sling. “Give me the kit.”

“His name is Jenner,” she corrected, gently placing him into the sling. “It’s okay Jenny, Mr. Fett is our friend!” She smoothed down the fur on his forehead.

Jenner took one look at Boba and started screaming again.

“Shh! Jenny, no! Friend!” Khel patted his head.

“Just get on the swoop and hold on tight.”

“I think your helmet scares him,” she said, clambering on the front and clinging to the bar.

“Too bad.” Boba climbed on behind her, leaning over her as he started the engine. His armor should shield her and the baby if-

“There they are! Get ‘em!”

Boba gunned the throttle as blasterfire erupted around them. Khel clung like a burr to the front grip and Jenner’s scream ratcheted up into a wail that made his teeth ache.

The race through town was not one he cared to remember. It was full of screaming children, baby vomit, weapons discharging far too close for comfort, and, for some reason, cabbages. He called ahead to his ship, lowering the ramp so he could drive the swoop right into the cargo bay. He skidded to a stop inches from the wall, the ramp already lifting into place behind him. Khel started to topple sideways, but he caught her and set her on her feet.

“Are you hurt?”

“Um?” She sniffled. “I don’t know?”

“Good.” He shrugged out of the sling and handed it to her. “Go clean him up. I need to get us out of here.”

Jenner was still wailing, interrupted by the occasional hiccup. Boba ignored him and Khel’s wavering questions about where the ‘fresher was and headed to the cockpit. Permission to undock was granted when he was already halfway through the procedure (a little bribery worked wonders) and then they were in the air and headed out of atmo. The sooner they left this dirtball behind, the happier he’d be.

“Hey, you got any food on this thing?”

Boba pivoted and fired, startling a yelp from-

“You!” 

“Watch it with that thing!” The kidnapper from the rooftop, Han, glared at him from the doorway. “You could kill someone with that!”

“That’s the point.” Boba didn’t lower his weapon. “How the kriff did you get on this ship?”

“Oh, uh,” Han’s eyes darted around the cockpit. “You lowered the ramp so I just kinda climbed in.”

It was an upsetting thought. How had Han even known which ship was his? How had Boba failed to notice what happened? What else might he have missed? Too many questions and no time to deal with any of them.

“If you climbed in then you can climb right back out.” He twitched the barrel of the blaster, trying to get Han to back up.

“We just broke orbit!”

“Not my problem.” Boba stepped forward. Han stepped back.

“Look, ah, the kids are hungry. You got anything they can eat? Khel’s partial to kelp strips but she’ll eat anything fishy. Jenner’s not on solids yet.”

The console beeped, interrupting Han’s babbling. Boba clenched his jaw. The temptation to shove the interloper out the airlock was overwhelming, but he just didn’t have time. Yet.

“Galley’s down and on the left,” he said, turning back to the controls to enter coordinates for the jump. “Nautolan meal packets in the freezer. Might be some milk in the fridge.”

“Yeah! Great! I- I’ll get right on that!”

He glanced at the rearview camshot and was greeted with an image of a smiling Han just before he left. It was... a nice smile. Not that he cared. The smile was attached to an asshole. And a liability. He’d deal with that later. For now he concentrated on final preps and then made the jump to hyper.


	2. Chapter 2

They made it to hyperspace without incident. Boba made contact with Councillor Seriss to let him know his daughter was safe. He hadn’t been planning to mention the Zygerrian kit, but Khel had and the conversation had gotten heated before the Councillor finally ended it with “we’ll discuss this when you get home.”

They were a week out from Glee Anselm, a prospect that hadn’t bothered him overmuch until things went fragged. Khel on her own would have been easy to manage. Even the addition of Jenner might not have been too bad, despite Khel’s insistence that they needed to “stop somewhere” to get supplies like diapers and formula. But having two children and Han “I’m not a kidnapper” Solo onboard for seven days- six, if he hurried- just might put him over the edge. Once he had everyone more or less settled he retreated to his cramped quarters to think.

A long session in the sonic had helped remove the dirt, sweat, and grime of his ordeal and had soothed some of his aching muscles. He dressed in the soft tunic and loose trousers he preferred when on his ship. There were rumors that he lived in his armor, but while he was happy to encourage the misinformation the reality just wasn’t practical. Or comfortable.

He did a few stretches, wondering if he could risk getting some sleep or if he needed to check and make sure Solo hadn’t set anything on fire or otherwise managed to damage the ship. He’d locked off all the access hatches and the only way to the cockpit was through his quarters, but he didn’t trust his unwelcome guest not to cause trouble.

How had he gotten himself into this mess? What had he done wrong? He should have done things different. Better. More like his father. Jango would _never_ have allowed this situation to develop.

Boba balanced on his hands, legs curving up over his head as he brooded over his failure to live up to his father’s legacy. His shirt had ridden up, leaving his stomach exposed to the air currents, which shifted.

“Hey, wh- uhhh…”

He was on his feet in an instant, reaching for his blaster on its hook as Han Solo stood in the doorway, gaping at him.

“What do you want?” He could feel his heart hammering; another mistake, letting himself get caught by surprise like that.

“Uhh.” Solo’s jaw snapped closed and he shook his head. “I was just- just wondering.” He raked his hair back, the blush obvious on his pale skin.

“Spit it out, Solo.”

Solo glared. “I wanted to know where I’m sleeping tonight.” He waved a hand. “You got that cot for Khel and made up that little crate for Jenny, but what about me?”

“I’ve only got one bunk.” Boba shrugged, not looking behind him where there were, in fact, two bunks. “So unless you expect me to share- which isn’t going to happen,” he added, ignoring the way Solo licked his lips, “you can go find a space in the cargo hold.”

“In the car- you mean in the cages?!” Solo straightened, jaw jutting out. “I’m not one of your kriffing bounties, Fett!”

“Acquisitions,” he corrected. “And no, you aren’t, because then you’d be worth something.” Another twitch of his shoulders. “I don’t care where you sleep, but it isn’t going to be here.”

“HA! As if I wanted to sleep with you!” Solo froze, turning even redder. “I mean- You- I- Ugh! Whatever!” He flung up his hands and pivoted on his heel. “Try to help a guy out and this is the thanks I get!”

“I never asked for your help!”

“Kriff you!”

“Go vent yourself!” Boba moved to lock the door behind him but hesitated. The whole point of leaving it open in the first place had been so he could listen out for the younglings.

Khel was standing in the common area, staring at him with her hands clasped. He sighed.

“Sorry for the noise. Is everything OK?”

She nodded, her head tentacles- _ahweys_ \- wiggling. “Mr. Fett?” Her voice wavered, but she still looked up at him from where she was. “Han is OK, really. He’s a bit of a… a dummy sometimes, but he’s still nice.”

Shiny red eyes watched him. Boba didn’t say the first thing that popped into his head. Or the second. He managed a tight smile. “I’m sure you think so. Now, go to bed.”

“Okay. G’night, Mr. Fett! Don’t let the bitz bugs bite!” She shuffled over to the cot, visible from his doorway, and clambered in, snuggling into a pile of blankets.

Boba frowned after her for another minute before turning and heading to the cockpit. Sleep could wait a little longer. He had a sudden need to check over _Slave 1_ ’s systems again. And maybe make sure that the cameras in the cargo bay were operational.


	3. Han's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Han has been rescued he realizes his problems have only just begun.

Han stared up through the bars of his chosen cell and tried to will himself to sleep. It wasn’t working. His mind kept replaying every bad decision he’d made, from saying “yes” to the friend of a friend of a friend who’d told him there was easy money to make with a guy named Filchen to double-crossing the kidnapping thugs without having an actual exit strategy, to recognizing Jango Fett’s distinctive ship and thinking it was a good idea to sneak onboard, right up to him yelling at Jango’s hypothetical son, who looked a lot different out of his armor. Younger. Angrier. Hotter. Han put his hands over his face and groaned.

At least he hadn’t been spaced. Yet. And the door to his cell was still open. He’d used a toolkit to prop it open, just in case. Khelini and Jenner both liked him, so maybe he could work that to his advantage. He didn’t have a lot of experience dealing with younglings, but he had a feeling it was more than what Junior had. Junior. He didn’t even know the man’s name yet. There’d been rumors of Jango having a son, but he’d never listened to them. It hadn’t seemed important at the time. Just like it hadn’t seemed important to grab anything in his escape from Filchen’s compound. It hadn’t taken long to figure out that Junior’s ship hadn’t been prepped for the arrival of a baby. The diaper situation had been enlightening. Luckily for all of them Algor was near the Perlemian Trade Route so stopping off for supplies would be easy. It would also be a good chance for Han to jump ship. Maybe. Probably. It’d be the smart thing to do. Not that he was known for being smart.

Idle thoughts of Junior praising him for his help had just started drifting into something a little more personal when a sound like a rusty hinge startled him into wakefulness. He held his breath and listened. The noise repeated itself, turning into a distinct whine.

“Jen. S’right.” He lurched off the bench, tripped over the toolbox, and limped down the corridor to the common area where Khel was just sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. Jenner fussed in the crate beside her. “Shhh, I gotcha.”

He picked the kit up and it became immediately obvious why he was fussy. “Kriff, kid, what’ve you been eating?”

“I’ll get the diapers,” Khel said, yawning.

He glanced behind him to see Junior leaning in the doorway of his quarters, hair tousled and eyes shadowed in the night-time lighting of the ship. He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by Khel shoving a lopsided square of cloth at him; Junior had surrendered a couple of blankets and an old cape to be cut down into makeshift diapers. Han kept up a steady stream of chatter as he changed Jen, only gagging twice and stabbing himself with a pin once.

“There, fuzzball, isn’t that better?”

Cleaned and changed Jenner was quick to settle down again. Han rocked him in his arms, humming a half-remembered Corellian lullaby as Khel crawled back into her bed. He turned to find that the rest of his audience had left as well. Steeling himself, he approached Junior’s quarters.

“Hey Junior,” he called, stepping into the room. “Mind if I wash up in your fresher?”

The bounty hunter wasn’t there. Han scanned the cramped, utilitarian space with its double bunk before noticing the curtained area. The covering was thrust aside and he got a brief glimpse of cockpit controls before Junior was crowding into his space, brown eyes boring into him.

“What did you call me?”

The soft voice. The lilting accent. Han licked his lips. “You, uh, you prefer Fett, then? You didn’t exactly introduce yourself, you know.”

Fett tilted his head, studying him for a long, uncomfortable moment. And then… he smiled. Or it might have been a smile. A dangerous one.

“Boba,” he said, nodding to a door near them. “Make it fast.”

“Ha, I’ve heard that one before.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Ducking his head, he shoved Jenner at Boba, who fumbled a moment before finding the right way to hold him.

While he did, Han slipped into the fresher and ran the tap. No mirror over the sink. Interesting. At least it meant he didn’t have to stare at his embarrassed reflection. He spent a few more minutes on necessary tasks and trying to make himself less of a mess before stepping back into Boba’s room. He had a sarcastic comment ready regarding the existence of the second bunk, but it caught in his throat.

Boba was sitting on the lower bunk, Jenner cradled against his chest. His bare chest. One finger was smoothing back the tiny spots on the kit’s forehead, but he stopped, tensing as Han stood there.

“He spat up. Again.” Boba indicated the shirt on the floor.

“Yeah, he does that.” Han was a master of conversation. He swaggered closer, acting as casual as possible. “So, uh… I couldn’t help but notice…”

“No.”

“No?” He stopped. “No, what?”

“My quarters, my ship, my rules.” Boba stood, careful not to jostle the kit dozing in his arms. “If you don’t like it you’re free to leave when we dock in the morning.”

“Me?” He widened his eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was just going to say that I couldn’t help but notice that you, uh, seem to be getting along OK with the little fuzzball.”

Boba locked gazes with him again. He’d rarely felt more exposed, but resisted the urge to look away; it’d be an obvious tell that proved the lie. After a moment of painful silence Boba’s expression lost some of its tension and he glanced down at Jenner.

“He screamed the whole ride back to the ship,” he said. “Wouldn’t be the first time someone hated me on sight, but I guess he’s gotten over it.”

Han turned the words over in his head before deciding to accept them at face value. “Maybe it was the armor.”

That earned him another Look. He forged ahead anyway.

“I mean, you gotta admit it’s a bit intimidating, even if you aren’t a tiny helpless baby.” Taking a chance he reached out to swipe his own finger along Jen’s forehead.

Boba stepped closer. So close their shoulders brushed. Han forgot how to breathe.

“Good. That means it’s working.”

Another smile, and was it his imagination or was this one more playful? He reached out to… to do something and felt a weight deposited in his arms. Jenner. Of course. Boba stepped back and turned towards his bunk.

“Try and get some sleep, Solo. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.”

“Han,” he said, managing to find his voice again at last. “If we’re gonna be together for a while you might as well call me Han.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Han watched him scoop up another shirt and pull it over his head before it occurred to him he should leave the room. Murmuring reassurances to Jenner he turned and walked out. He was in so, so much trouble.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boba has some unwelcome company as he goes to pick up supplies and may end up revealing more than he meant to.

The mission was getting worse and worse. Boba adjusted the new sling/sleep hammock that currently held a wide-eyed and far-too-curious Jenner and sighed to himself. How, exactly, he’d been coerced into taking the kitling when he went to pick up supplies was still a mystery. Khel had been very persuasive. If she followed in her father’s footsteps she would be a force to avoid crossing when she got older. She was a force to avoid, now.

He’d left her on the ship, which had been locked tight with every added security measure he had as well as a couple of the less stupid suggestions Solo had contributed. And there was the other reason for his aggravation. He had assumed that his unwelcome guest would run as soon as the ramp lowered, but instead he’d stuck close to Boba, even going so far as to offer suggestions on what to buy.

“We don’t _need_ a classic ships mobile.”

“Aw, but I bet Jenny would love it, wouldn’t ya, fuzzball?” Solo wiggled a finger at Jenner, who obligingly latched on. “Gonna grow up to be a pilot, just like your daddy?”

“We have no idea what his father-”

“Oh, what a sweet couple!”

Boba’s shoulders twitched. He stopped himself from reaching for his blaster as a Rodian with three younglings beamed at them.

“Is this your first one?”

“Yeah!” Solo replied before he could. He shifted around to grin back at them, slipping an arm around Boba’s waist. “Adopted, of course,” he said, trying to recover his finger from Jenner’s fuzzy grip.

If the younglings hadn’t been gawking at them Boba would have shot him. Or at least broken his arm. Or both. Instead he ducked his head, tugging on the hood obscuring his face. His armor would have been too obvious, but anyone familiar with the war would likely find his face familiar, too. He could feel his cheeks burning as Solo pulled him closer, chatting happily to curious Rodian.

“You’ll have to forgive Snapper, here, he’s a little shy, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

_Snapper?_ Boba clenched his jaw. “You know me so well, _Jare_ ,” he said, convinced that no one listening would recognize the Mandalorian insult. “I like it better when we’re _alone_.”

He felt Solo go still and then resettle his hand on Boba’s hip. Jenner hadn’t let go yet, either, which meant that Solo’s other arm was wrapped around his chest. It felt a lot like a hug and in addition to restricting his movement it also meant their faces were very close. Boba swallowed and concentrated on his resentment.

The Rodian cooed at them again and wiggled a flat fingertip at Jenner, who obligingly let go of Solo to wave his hands at it. The Rodian was smart enough not to get caught and after wishing them the best of luck returned to herding the younglings on their way.

“Remove your arm before I remove it from your body,” Boba growled.

“Aww, you wouldn’t want Jenny to be stuck with a one-armed dad, would you? Who’d change his diap- oof!”

Boba slammed his elbow into Solo’s ribs and stepped aside as soon as he was released. “I’d worry more about losing your head. What the kriff was that supposed to be?”

“What? I was just playing along.” Solo rubbed his ribs. “If anyone’s looking for us they aren’t gonna be looking for a couple! So who’s Jare? Or what? Ex lover? Term of endearment?”

“It means you’re a suicidal idiot,” he said, walking faster. “We’re getting the rest of the supplies and heading back to the ship. _I’m_ getting the supplies,” he corrected, feeling the heat start again. “ _You’re_ more than welcome to leave, now. There’s no need for this… this _playacting_.”

He needed this job to work out. He was already making a name for himself and managing to claw his way into some of the bigger bounties, but this? This could move him to a whole new level. He didn’t need any _distractions_.

“Hey, you call it playacting, I call it a cover.” Solo caught up, walking beside him. “Ever heard of a cover story, Junior?”

Boba glared at him. “I’m a _bounty hunter_. I’ve been using aliases and cover stories for over a decade, _kid_.”

“Kid? Me?” Solo pointed at his chest. “I’m nineteen, you know. That makes me an adult in most systems.”

Ignoring him, Boba entered a storefront and began browsing. They’d already purchased most of what Jenner needed, and he tried not to worry about how that was cutting into his budget as he picked out several “onesies.” Khel had informed him that even with his downy covering of fur the kit needed actual clothing to wear. The computer let him program in measurements and he tried to pick patterns that wouldn’t be obnoxious to look at. Grinning tookas, rainbow stars, something vaguely aquatic-looking, and plain green with red piping that reminded him of his armor.

“Hang on, a decade?” Solo was frowning beside him. He didn’t respond, adding on several baby-sized blankets before swiping his chip and having it sent to the secure locker on the dock with the rest of the supplies.

“What, did you start bounty hunting when you were nine?”

“Twelve.” Brushing past him he found another console and entered Khel’s measurements. She hadn’t asked for anything, but given that she only had the one outfit and that it was dirty and worn he thought it’d be a good idea to give her some clean things to wear.

Solo scoffed. “Twelve. Right. Yeah, I had my own chromium-plated cargo hauler, then.”

Unfortunately there were way too many options to choose from. He picked a couple of shirts, a couple of loose pants, and a cloak with a faint shell pattern on it.

“Already had my dad’s ship by then,” Boba said, finalizing the transaction and heading out. “Lost it for a while. Wound up in prison, too.” He wasn’t sure why he was giving away so much information. It could probably be used against him.

This earned him an actual laugh. Bright and merry in a way he wasn’t used to hearing.

“What’d you do, try to rob a bank?”

“Tried to kill the Jedi who murdered my father.” He shrugged. “It didn’t work.”

Silence.

Boba kept walking, ignoring the tension creeping into his shoulders. He didn’t care what Solo thought. He didn’t even care if the idiot didn’t believe him. He’d said too much anyway. And it was all in the past. Over. Mace Windu had died in the end along with the other Jedi and that was… good.

There was a Biscuit Baron ahead, and remembering something Khel had said, he made his way towards it.

“A Jedi?”

It was his turn not to answer. He went in and placed an order for a Jolly Meal and some QuickSnacks. The repurposed battle droid behind the counter bobbed its head, said “Roger, Roger!” and turned to shout the order to the kitchen. Boba tried to step aside and bumped into Solo.

“Huh. Went after one of those damn mystics and wound up in jail. At twelve. Kriff. And I thought _my_ early life was exciting!”

“You can leave, you know.”

“Are you kidding? This is just starting to get interesting!”

Boba ducked his head, avoiding Solo’s smile. Jenner burbled for attention, hooking tiny claws into his shirt.

“Pata?”

Boba didn’t know any Zygerrian, but he could make a guess. “I’m not your father, kit.”

“Pata!” Jenner’s grin was needle sharp and his blue eyes never wavered from Boba’s.

“I think he likes you.” Solo nudged his shoulder.

“He shouldn’t.” He moved aside again, trying to pick up his order, but Solo beat him to it.

“What’s not to love? I- I mean you got him out of a bad situation and you’re taking good care of him. Seems like a reasonable reaction to me.”

“Pata.”

“Yeah, you tell ‘em, kid. Although I think it’s gonna take more than a Jolly Meal to cheer him up.”

That smile again. Boba scowled. “It’s for Khel.”

He intercepted the drinks tray before Solo could grab that, too, and dipped his finger in the chocolate quake, feeding it to an enthusiastic Jenner. He could almost _feel_ Solo being smug beside him as all three of them headed back to the ship. That was fine. He was getting better at ignoring him. And later, he’d make _him_ change Jen’s diaper. He dipped his finger in the quake again, the corners of his mouth quirking ever so slightly upwards.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost a year later and there's FINALLY an update! Whew! Sorry for that. I kinda lost heart while writing the fic and it made it pretty difficult to continue. But I want to see this through and maybe even get these two idiots together (ish) so here ya go. The final chapter won't take another year to write, I promise.

They were beyond the halfway point of their trip to Glee Anselm. Boba rubbed his eyes and willed the displays on the console to stay in focus. He was used to working on little sleep, but somehow the addition of a baby made it a lot worse. Although he’d never admit it out loud he was grateful for Solo’s presence. It was… nice to have the extra help. Convenient. When Solo had crawled into his spare bunk and fallen asleep the night before, Boba had been too exhausted himself to kick him out. He wasn’t going to let it be a habit, of course, but he could tolerate it for now.

He heard noises in his room; a muffled grunt and shuffling footsteps as Solo finally woke up and headed for the ‘fresher. Good. He sipped his caf and tried not to think about the unwelcome guest invading all of his private spaces. Just because Solo was surprisingly useful in helping him deal with the younglings, it didn’t stop him from being annoying. He was always filling the silence with his stupid voice, either boasting about unlikely adventures or trying to tell terrible jokes, or offering advice Boba definitely didn’t ask for. And all done in that soft burr of his, with the stupid drawl he affected- if he remembered to. It just got worse from there.

He didn’t consider himself fastidious by nature, but he liked things to be orderly and nothing about Solo was orderly. His hair was a mess in need of a good trim and sometimes Boba had to resist the urge to  _ at least _ drag a comb through it. His clothes never seemed to fit right and were always rumpled even though Boba had pointed out that there was a laundry unit onboard and he had a feeling he was never going to get back the vest he’d “borrowed” on the first morning. And then there was the patchy stubble on his face that he insisted was the start of a beard. Boba shook his head. It would be a relief to have the ship to himself again.

Once he’d finished verifying all the readouts, he grabbed his now-empty mug and headed through his room to go get a refill. Han was just coming out of the ‘fresher as he passed by. 

Wearing nothing but a towel. 

Boba froze.

It shouldn’t be startling. It  _ wasn’t _ startling, it was just… It was just. A lot of skin, a fair number of freckles, and a few scars. Han was trying to rake his hair into place and his eyes widened as he realized he wasn’t alone.

“Boba!”

He tripped over a stuffed bantha toy Jenner had tossed across the room the previous night. Reflexes kicked in and Boba caught him as he fell. Warm weight crashed into him, damp arms wrapping him in an awkward hug as his own hands clung to Solo’s waist.

“Kriff! Sorry, kriff!”

He smelled like… well, he smelled like Boba, since they were using the same soap and shampoo. It was distracting. He could feel taut muscles under his fingers; Han wasn’t as soft as he acted. His ridiculous hair plastered itself to Boba’s cheek and stubble scraped along his jaw.

They were still holding each other. Dragging in a sharp breath Boba stepped back, giving Han a slight shove and averting his eyes. Han clutched at the towel around his waist, stammering another apology. If Boba had been watching, which he definitely wasn’t, he might have noticed that Han had turned a blotchy red from the chest up.

“Watch where you’re going,” he said, and stalked out of the room. Holy kriff, he needed caf more than ever, now. The front of his shirt was damp and he had to peel off a hair that got stuck in his mouth. Clumsy barve. His fingers twitched, remembering that taut waist. He also realized he’d dropped his mug at some point and swore, hitting the light for the galley as he entered. No matter. There were other mugs. He started a fresh pot and grabbed milk from a fridge that had sprouted a new drawing since last night. It looked like himself and Solo holding hands under a smiling sun. Kriffing Khel. 

He heard Solo enter the room behind him and ignored the way his skin prickled. He was chilled, that’s all.

“So, ah, almost there, huh?” 

“If by almost you mean three more days, yeah.” Boba grabbed a fresh mug and added caf and milk. He turned to confront Solo. At least he was dressed, now. And still wearing Boba’s vest.

“Sounds like the home stretch to me.” Solo stretched for emphasis, his shirt riding up over his stomach. 

Heat flooded him, only to be stuffed down as fast as he could manage it. Rolling his eyes he sat on the far side of the curved couch, not about to let himself be driven out of his own damn galley.

“Kids’ll be up soon,” Solo continued, moving in to get his own caf. “Want me to make breakfast?”

They’d discovered that they could supplement Jenner’s bottle feedings with scrambled egg substitute and mashed fruit. At least in small quantities. It was messy, but it made the kit happy. Which meant everyone else was happy, too, so it was entirely practical.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” he said, trying to stay focused on his mug and not on Solo’s backside as he bent to retrieve the carton of Near-egg from the fridge and set about making scrambles. His pants were in sore need of darning, but Boba wasn’t about to mention that. He wished he hadn’t even noticed, but it was getting harder and harder not to notice the damn idiot.

“So, uh, you sleep well last night?”

Boba stared at him. “Why?”

“Just askin’.” Han glanced back at him, tucking a lock of damp hair behind his ear. “It’s called being nice. You should try it sometime.”

Boba went to drink his caf only to find his mug empty. He feigned taking a sip anyway.

“I know it doesn’t go with this whole ‘dark and broody bounty hunter’ thing you’ve got going on,” he said, waving the spatula, “but I promise it won’t kill you.”

“Dark and broody?” Boba frowned. “I’m not dark and broody, this is just how I am.”

“Yeah, and it’s hot. I mean, hard! I mean, uh. It’s, yeah.” Han shoved a plate of scrambles at him. “Just try and lighten up, okay? We’ll be outta your hair in a few days and then you’ll never have to see any of us again.”

Relief. What Boba was feeling was definitely relief. What else would it be? He ate his eggs, muttering thanks as Han refilled his mug before sitting at the opposite end of the couch. While he was organizing his thoughts, Khel shuffled in and dropped a couple of frozen space waffles in the toaster.

“Hey, I made scrambles,” Han protested.

“No thanks,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Also, Jenny’s awake.” She pushed at Boba until he moved over to make room for her. “His diapers need changing, too.”

Almost on cue, there was a whine from the common area. Boba and Han exchanged a look and raised their fists. A quick game of Rock, Flimsi, Scissors later and Han was griping his way down the corridor. Khel grabbed her waffles and a glass of muja juice and sat back down next to Boba.

“So,” she said. “Are you gonna ask him to stay?”

“Him who?” he asked, gently taking his mug from her when she tried to steal it. “No caf for you.”

A Nautolan eyeroll was nearly a full-body experience. “Han! Duh!” She stuffed half a waffle in her mouth.

Boba didn’t inhale his scramble, but it was a close thing. “No! Why would I?”

“You’re a good team,” she said, her words slightly muffled by chewing. “You’ve taken really good care of me ‘n Jenny.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Boba admonished. “And no, we’re not a team.”

Khel gulped some juice and elbowed him. “But you could be!” She grinned.

“No,” he said again, and scooted the length of the couch so he could stand and dump the rest of his breakfast in the ‘cycler.

“Don’t you like him? I know he likes you!”

He was saved from answering by the arrival of Solo, who pushed a wriggly Jenner into his arms.

“Here. He misses his Pata.”

Khel giggled, but he refused to look at her. This mission needed to be over before his whole life was a shambles. Him? Partner with Han? Never. And no more bounties involving kids. Ever.

He started a bottle warming while Jenner stared up at him with wide blue eyes and burbled around the fist he’d jammed in his mouth.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” Boba tickled a velvety pointed ear, making the kit laugh and kick his feet.

“Hey, Han,” Khel said, her voice far too sweet to be trusted, “Boba was just telling me he thinks you two make a good team.”

Boba’s head snapped up. “I did not!”

Solo looked between the two of them, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“He did, huh?”

“Uh huh!” She nodded, causing her foremost  _ ahweys _ to wiggle.

“Don’t even think about it, Solo,” he said, testing the bottle before giving it to Jenner, who started sucking greedily.

“Think about what?”

“Anything. Khel was just kidding, weren’t you, Khel?” He frowned at her.

She chewed at him, eyes wide.

“All I’m thinkin’ about is making sure these cute little monsters get home safe and then workin’ the ports at Sabil City to get myself another job.” He stretched his legs under the table, slouching in his seat.

“Good.” Rocking Jenner in his arms as he continued to feed him Boba ignored an unwelcome twinge of guilt.

“Besides, having baggage like me around would ruin your image, huh?”

Boba refused to rise to the bait, but Jenner started getting fussy with the bottle so he snatched a piece of scramble off Han’s- off  _ Solo’s _ \- plate and dangled it over the kit’s nose. He immediately dropped the bottle and reached up to squish the eggy substance in his fingers.

“Can’t play up the Lone Anooba thing if you aren’t alone.” Han sighed. “Whatever. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of work on the docks.”

“Maybe you two can stay together until the next stop,” Khel offered. “And then you won’t get lonely like you said, Han.”

“What?” Solo sat up straight. “I never said-”

“And then you two can be alone together and spend time together and get to know each other and then maybe you can stay together!” She beamed at them, teeth stained slightly pink from the juice.

Boba looked at Solo. Solo looked back at him. There was something almost yearning about his expression.

“That isn’t-”

He was interrupted as Jenner grabbed hold of his mouth and tried to jam egg mush into it.

“We’ll see, kiddo,” Solo said, reaching out to tug her  _ ahwey _ . “Anything’s possible.”

If he hadn’t been busy cleaning up himself and Jenner, he would have corrected that vague statement. There was no way he was letting Solo stay on his ship a moment longer than necessary. No way at all.

It was a mantra he repeated to himself often over the next three days as Solo, who was already underfoot, suddenly seemed to be everywhere Boba was. At one point they were nearly locked into one of the cages together by Khel, who swore it was an accident.  Boba had his doubts. 

Solo was still sleeping in the upper bunk, too; a detail that was impossible to ignore. Every shift and movement, every snore and wordless mutter left Boba more on edge than ever. He spent a long time in the shower the last night struggling to get his frustrations under control. 

Just a few more hours and he wouldn’t have to deal with any of this anymore. He’d have his ship to himself again. No more dirty diapers or messy feedings or walking around the ship with a sleeping infant cradled in his arms. No more bedtime stories, which tended to be interactive adventures when Solo was telling them. No more artwork adorning various surfaces or having to answer a million and one questions about everything from ship maintenance to his favorite color. 

Most important of all: no more Solo. Sure, he’d been a big help with the kids, and had been innovative in working spot repairs on the ship, and his bartering skills had saved him a fair bit on supplies, but everything else about him was insufferable, including the fact that he knew how useful he’d been.

There was nothing  _ wrong _ with being a Lone Anooba. Life had taught him not to rely on others; eventually everyone left. One way or another. This was just another job and he’d be glad when it was over. He sure as kriff wasn’t going to miss any of his passengers when they were gone.

For some reason it took him a long time to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'ahwey' is a word I came up with in place of 'head tentacles' because that just sounds awkward. It's an extreme corruption of what a Hawaiian-English dictionary assures me is the word for, you guessed it, 'tentacle.' If anyone knows a better one, feel free to correct me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've arrived at Glee Anselm, but Boba finds himself conflicted on a couple of issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-daaa! Finished! I hope it was worth the wait.

It was the easiest customs clearance Boba had experienced since living on Kamino. All he had to do was give his name and ship designation and he was being cleared to land. Councilor Seriss must have even more political sway than Boba had realized.

He made a last sweep of the ship to make sure he’d gotten all of Khel and Jenner’s things. How, exactly, they’d managed to go from having nothing to having piles of toys, books, clothes, food, and sundry supplies was still a mystery, but he’d managed to get it all contained into a few hefty carry-bags while Han made sure the younglings were clean and presentable.

“Here,” Han said, looping the baby sling over his head. “You take the kids, I’ll handle the luggage.”

Jenner looked up at him and screamed, prompting Khel to cover her ear membranes. Boba sighed and removed his helmet, which quieted the kit instantly.

“You’re fine, Jen,” he said, smoothing back the fur between the kit’s eyes. “Just go back to sleep.”

“Pata.” Jenner latched onto his gauntleted finger.

“This is so great!” Khel bounced over to him, grabbing his free hand. “You’ll get to meet my dad and my mom and my mum and-”

“I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you,” Boba said, rescuing his finger from Jenner so he could type in the code to lower the ramp.

“They can’t wait to meet you, either!” Khel stood on her toes, trying to see out as the ramp lowered. “I’ve been telling them all about you!”

“Oh yeah? Did you tell them about his stinky feet?” Han nudged him in the back.

Ignoring Khel’s giggle he reached back to swat Han’s arm. “Let’s move out.”

Down the ramp they went and into the brightness of a warm Glee Anselm day.

The port was bustling with the usual activity, but to one side was a large group of Nautolans with streamers and a banner welcoming Khel home. With a high-pitched screech of her own, Khel shot off towards them, leaving Boba and Han to follow behind.

Councilor Seriss stepped forward and bent to scoop Khel into his arms, swinging her around as the crowd cheered.

“She’s got quite the family, huh?” Han moved up beside him.

Boba didn’t say anything, watching as Khel’s father hugged her close and kissed her cheeks before passing her on to two more Nautolans that he guessed were her mothers. _Family_. He'd only ever had a father until the Jedi murdered him and left him on his own. He wondered what life would have been like if he'd accepted the clone army as his brothers, but then that situation hadn't turned out well for anyone, had it?

“Boba Fett!” Councilor Seriss’s grin was bright enough to rival the sun as he approached. “I cannot thank you enough!”

Before he knew what was happening he found himself pulled into a hug. Jenner squalled a complaint. The Councilor stepped back, still smiling.

“And this must be Jenny, right?” He extended a finger, tickling one of Jenner’s ears.

“Yes, sir, I-”

“He’s really a bundle of joy once you get to know him,” Han interrupted, hooking an arm around Boba. “Oh yeah, and Jenner’s a great kit, too. Hi, I’m Han.”

At that point, Khel reappeared, dragging along her mothers and covering Han’s rather egregious attempt at a joke. Introductions were made, Linnel and Miryin cooed over Jenner, and the rest of the Seriss Clan moved in, almost overwhelming Boba with their gratitude. SOme of them even gave him gifts, which Han gleefully accepted. Cookies and casseroles, a brilliantly-colored robe, various beads and ribbons he was given to understand were meant for his hair, coupons, credits, an actual kriffing vibroknuckler from an older and heavily scarred Nautolan with a truncated _ahwey_ , and far too many hugs and kisses for Boba’s taste. When Jenner started protesting the rough treatment Miryin took charge of him, which was both a relief and a disappointment.

Finally Councilor Seriss shooed everyone away so that he and Boba could “talk business.” Han, of course, followed them as they headed back towards Slave 1.

“I can’t thank you enough for returning Khelini to us.” The Councilor smiled. “Some of my advisors were against me hiring a bounty hunter, but it’s clear my faith- and my money- weren’t misplaced.”

With that he reached into the pocket of his robe to withdraw a datapad, confirming the last four digits of Boba’s account as well as the amount of the bounty.

Han cleared his throat. “Well, now that you mention- oof!”

Boba kicked him hard in the shins, almost making him drop all the packages. Seriss looked up, raising his eye ridges.

“Docking fees and refueling charges will also be handled by my office, of course. And I’ll add on a bit to allow you to restock your provisions as well.” he chuckled. “If I know my Khel she probably ate everything on your ship including a few deckplates.”

Boba was torn between refusing out of principle and accepting out of need. His father, he knew, would take Han’s side and remind him not to refuse additional payment.

“Thank you, Councilor,” he said, shooting Han a poisonous look. “That’s very generous of you.”

“Nonsense,” Seriss said, typing a few more keys. The receiver in Boba’s wrist unit beeped acknowledgement. “You’ve been more than generous yourself judging by Khel’s condition. And that of her young friend.”

“About that…”

Seriss waved him off. “I believe the decision about Jenner has already been made for me.” He grinned. “Not that I’m inclined to disagree with them. Every child deserves a chance and we’ll be sure to provide him with a good life.”

“Good,” Boba said, shoving down a strange sense of loss. “That’s good.”

“We’ll sleep easier knowing that little Jenny’s in such good hands, right, Bo?”

Boba reminded himself that murdering someone in front of a client was bad for business. Unless it had been specifically requested.

“Now that we’ve settled the pesky business side of things,” Seriss said, “please feel free to explore Sabil City. It’d be a shame for you to come all this way and miss the sights.”

“We’ll- I’ll keep that in mind,” Boba said. He could almost feel Han gloating beside him at the slip.

“And if you’re still around tonight we’re throwing a welcome home party for Khel. I’m sure she’d want you both to be there.”

Was the universe conspiring against him? It was, wasn’t it?

“Wouldn’t miss it for all the stars in the sky, Councilor!” Han piped up.

“We’ll see what happens,” Boba amended.

“Please, call me Zal.” Seriss lifted the datapad again. “I’ll send you the address. See you tonight at nineteenth hour.”

Another round of thanks, a hug for both of them, and then he was off. Boba turned to glare at Han, who was beaming back at him.

“I guess it’s a date, huh?”

“Just put the stuff in the kriffing ship,” Boba growled. “And no, it isn’t a date. I’m not even going to the party.”

“What?” Han pivoted on the ramp, staring at him. “Free food and drinks? And a chance to see the kids again?”

Boba shook his head. “Once a bounty is complete, you leave. You don’t _hang around_ with the client.”

“Frip the client,” Han said, “I’m talking about Khel and Jenny. Are you really telling me you’re going to leave without telling them goodbye?”

Boba opened his mouth to tell him just that, but nothing came out. He frowned.

“We’ll see,” he said.

“Ha! Knew it.”

Fuming, he followed Han back onto the ship to help out away the “gifts.” His father’s rules about fraternizing with clients had been very clear, but he could picture Khel’s disappointment all too clearly and it… bothered him. Maybe if he just dropped in to say his goodbyes before heading out…

“We should probably do some shopping before the party,” Han said. “Make sure we have new outfits so we look presentable.”

“What?” Boba stopped tucking the vibroknuckler into a hidden pouch and stared at Han. “No. I’ll give you your share of the bounty and you’re welcome to spend it how you like, but I suggest you concentrate on trying to find a way off this planet.”

“Oh.” Han’s shoulders sagged. “Right. So you’re still kicking me off, huh?”

“Technically I never invited you on in the first place,” he reminded him, ignoring the queasy feeling in his stomach. “But I’ll pay you what I owe. After that, you’re on your own.”

Han straightened, shoulders stiff. “Don’t bother, _Fett,”_ he said. “I can take care of myself.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Boba started, but Han shoved past him, snatching up the small pack that contained his own belongings. “See you at the party tonight. If you can be bothered.”

“Solo-”

But Han flipped him off and headed out of the ship. Boba took a deep breath, telling himself it didn’t matter. Han was out of his life and that’s what he wanted, right? He put on his helmet and headed out of the ship, himself. He could reprovision the ship, check the boards for any likely jobs, check in to see Khel and Jenner, and then leave Glee Anselm far behind. If Han wanted to act like an idiot that wasn’t his business.

He headed into the city, including some of the visitor-safe underwater areas, but found himself having trouble concentrating on his task. He still managed to get most of what he needed, though, and was heading back to the ship to see it all stowed before the party when a commotion distracted him.

Four figures were chasing a fifth, firing their blasters and scattering the people on the docks. As he watched a sixth figure leapt out from behind a corner, tackling the quarry to the ground and punching him.

Just another day in the life of a spaceport and nothing to do with him, except that he recognized the quarry as Han. That still shouldn’t make it his business, but he found himself heading in their direction anyway as the rest of the thugs caught up and dragged Han to his feet.

“Hey, what’s going on here?” he demanded as a pale-skinned human with ratlike features pulled something metal off his belt and advanced towards Han.

“Nothing to see here, merc,” another figure growled, tattoos covering every square inch of visible skin.

“Just reclaiming some lost property.” Rat-face smirked, brandishing what was now obvious as a slave collar.

“Kriff you,” Han said, his words slurring. “I shaid no.” His head lolled, but it was enough to reveal a black eye, split lip, and a scrape on his temple.

Boba did some quick calculations, pulled his blaster, and shot Tattoos.

Chaos erupted. The pink-skinned Nautolan who’d been holding Han dropped him like a sack of potatoes and reached for his own blaster. Rat-face snarled and launched himself directly at Boba, who sidestepped and kicked him as he went past. The other two thugs, a Gungan and a bald human with a recently-broken nose lunged forward. Boba grabbed the Gungan and swung him around just as the Nautolan fired his blaster. The Gungan screamed obscenities and changed course to go after the Nautolan, who fired again.

Baldy ducked under Boba’s punch and swept his legs from under him. He hit the ground on his back, but before he could recover Han rolled on top of him, fumbling at his belt.

“Funny running into you in a place like this, huh?”

For a wild, incongruous second Boba thought he was going to kiss him, but then there was a scrape of metal on metal and Han hauled himself upwards, slashing the vibroknucler across Baldy’s eyes. Boba jumped back to his feet as Baldy screamed and dropped, but by now Rat-face had recovered and a yell from him had the Nautolan and Gungan leaving off their own fight to come after them again.

They were hemmed in. Escaping through the gathering crowd would only put innocents at risk and Boba found himself reluctant to do that. Sirens in the distance promised more trouble on the way so he took the only other option he could see and wrapped an arm around Han, leaving his blaster hand free to fire at the slavers.

“Whoah!” Han grabbed him. “Hey, not that I’m not happy to shee you, too, but-”

Boba fired his jetpack, launching them into the air. Blaster fire followed them, but none of it came close. Han whooped with delight and clung to him, grinning. He weighed more than he seemed and Boba wasn’t used to carrying passengers, but he managed to make it back to Slave 1 without further incident. The ramp lowered and he half-dragged a giggling Han into the ship, sealing the doors behind him.

“That was sho aweshome,” he slurred.

“I can’t leave you alone for five minutes, can I?” Boba dropped him on the couch and pulled off his helmet so he could do a better assessment of the damage. He caught Han’s face in his hands, tilting it this way and that. Han covered his hands with his own, but was otherwise complacent, his eyes glassy and unfocused.

“What the kriff happened? Did they dose you?”

“Said they had a job,” Han murmured. “Sho… so I followed ‘em.”

Boba pulled free and went to get the medpak, half-listening as Han told a story of striking out over and over until he ran into Queeg and his crew, who said they needed a general laborer to help with their live cargo, which turned out to be slaves. When Han objected they claimed his verbal agreement to “take a look” was binding and attempted to put a slave collar on him. He ran.

“You’re impossible,” Boba said, setting the medpak on the table and removing his gloves. “How do you manage to keep finding the worst possible jobs?” He used spray-bandage on the scrape and then opened the bacta.

“I guess they’re attracted to my winning charm.” Han smiled and immediately winced as it caused his split lip to start bleeding again.

Huffing, Boba wiped a bacta-covered thumb over the cut. Han’s lips were chapped but soft and it occurred to him too late that this was a bad idea. His thumb traced back and forth over the deceptively gentle mouth which had caused him so much grief over the past week and which clearly got its owner into a fair amount of trouble. He found himself wondering what kind of trouble it would get him into now. And then those lips parted and took his thumb in, teeth biting down ever so gently.

A shiver went up his arm and down his back. _Trouble_. Han was watching him, eyes wide but cautious. Boba found himself leaning in, gazes locked as he caught Han’s chin and tilted his head back the slightest bit.He could feel his heart pounding in his ears as he pulled his thumb free, leaving those lips parted and inviting. Their breath mingled and he could feel Han trembling as his fingers caressed his cheek, but as their lips brushed, he stopped.

“They dosed you, didn’t they?”

_Trouble_ , he thought again. The glassy eyes were a sign. And since when had Han ever been so complacent?

Han made a noise low in his throat, straining forward, but Boba leaned back. Not away; he couldn’t seem to draw himself more than a few inches from that mouth, but he at least managed to keep them separated.

“Doesn’t matter. Didn’t take.” He licked his lips, his tongue almost touching Boba, who suddenly found it hard to breathe. “I’ve always been a rebel at heart.”

Then he leaned in and they were kissing. Boba sighed into it, opening his mouth and pushing his tongue forward. He tastes bacta and caf and the remnants of the morning’s scrambles. They gripped each other by the back of the head, neither willing to let the other escape. Not that either of them wanted to. It started hungry and desperate, the product of a week’s worth of growing tension, but then it relaxed. Hands slipped down to caress and Boba let his mouth wander along Han’s jaw, nuzzling. _Trouble_. He’s in so much trouble and can almost feel his father’s disapproving frown, but he can’t be bothered to care.

It might have progressed from there; Han’s fingers were scrabbling at the joints of his armor, but then Boba’s chrono went off and they pulled back. Slow. Reluctant.

“Khel,” Boba said, his voice still rough. “If we want to make it to her party we’ll have to leave soon.”

Han smiles, his fingers dancing along the curves of Boba’s mouth.

“Can’t disappoint the kids, can we?”

“Get cleaned up, Solo.” He catches that hand, kissing the knuckles. “You look like crap.”

“Your sweet nothings will get you nowhere, Fett.”

They stood together and went to make themselves presentable. Han had to borrow clothes from Boba, which was more of a turn-on than he expected. For the first time in a long time he opted not to wear his armor outside. He justified it by telling himself it would only upset Jenner; it was true enough, even if it wasn’t the _whole_ answer.

The party itself was overwhelming, but Khel and Han took turns keeping him distracted. He’d brought one of his old shirts to give to Jenner. The kit immediately latched onto it, squeaked “Pata,” and went to sleep. Khel got a box of sweets and, after much bullying from Han and pleading from her, his private comm code so that they could keep in touch. The food was rich and delicious and Khel’s mothers insisted on sending them home with leftovers. Her father gave them a hefty bonus for capturing the slavers. While the crew had been chasing after Han one of the slaves had managed to escape and contact port security. As it turned out the reason the slavers had been so hard to catch was because they were being funded by Seriss’s rival on the Council, a man who seemed increasingly likely to be involved with the kidnapping plot as well.

At last, after several teary goodbyes and a lot of hugs, they made their escape. Boba still felt exposed in civvie clothes, so they took Councilor Seriss up on his offer to have them driven back to the docks.

“So,” Han said, after several long moments of silence. “I guess this is goodbye for us, too.”

Boba turned to look at him.

“You still want me off your ship, right?” He stretched his arms, managing to brush Boba’s in the process.

It was… not an unreasonable question, but Boba realized that at some his answer had changed. He glanced out the window at the passing scenery.

“Like I said, I can’t leave you alone for five minutes without you getting in trouble. Might be better if I kept an eye on you for a while longer.”

Han’s hand slid into his own, their fingers lacing together. “I thought you’d never ask.”


End file.
